The Stories in Songs
by Rochelle Templer
Summary: A series of one-shots centered around the Second Doctor: thoughts and musings, happy and sad moments, short adventures, and time spent with friends.
1. In Memoriam

Author's Note: New fic. Well more accurately, new place to put all my one-shots and assorted drabbles I've written for Two and his companions. This will be updated whenever I have a nice assortment of them stored up.

For this first one, this is a missing preview scene for my story _In Inceptum Finis Est_ that I wrote as a birthday gift to **aragonite. **It takes place a couple of weeks before the beginning of that story.

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who reads/follows/favorites/reviews. It is always appreciated.

In Memoriam 

The Doctor did not like loose ends.

Slivery wisps of moonlight stretched through the cracks of the windows, cracks that were allowed to form because the owners of this laboratory had stopped caring past the motions of their masters' rhetoric. These places continued to exist because it was decreed by law that they would. However, existence was not necessarily equated with the need to be bothered or to stop the entropy of neglect.

The moonlight made the Doctor's white hair glow. As he sat hunched over the computer terminal in front of him, he begrudging thanked his luck that the people who used to mind this place so carefully no longer were so diligent. It was probably the deciding factor that enabled him to break into this place and access every computer in the compound.

Lines of code scrolled endlessly on the flickering monitor screen. The Doctor hated to use the word 'scientists' in regards to the people who worked here. They may have qualified for that title long ago, the first time he had conducted a 'surveillance' mission for the CIA. Only three hundred years later, that was no longer the case. What had started out as a robust (and to the Time Lords, worrying) scientific community had degenerated into a for-profit enterprise that was only interested in currying favor with the politicians who oversaw operations and in finding ways to attract investors.

The Doctor scowled and was only just able to stop himself from kicking the infuriatingly difficult computer. He had always believed that a sign of a truly advanced culture was the presence of computers that were designed to be as user-friendly as possible. The fact that the ones here relied on willfully obtuse operating systems told the Doctor all he needed to know about how far this culture had fallen academically.

The first time he had come here, he was gathering information to reassure the CIA that this planet was making valuable contributions to the universe's body of knowledge.

This time, he was making sure that their latest discovery would never be used by anyone else.

The Doctor glanced over at the tiny microchip that was currently a few inches from his fingertips. The CIA had discovered the existence of a particularly troublesome cybervirus in these computer systems a couple weeks ago and had assigned him with the task of neutralizing the threat.

'_Never mind that they got that information by sending one of their other agents to re-write history so they could permanently infiltrate the network,' _the Doctor fumed silently. '_What was it that they said when they sentenced me? Ah yes, breaking the cardinal laws of Time.'_

He wasn't able to stop himself from snorting as he sifted through the information in front of him. His supervisors in the CIA made it clear that he was not to be discovered by the local populace; however, they also heavily implied that they wanted him to give a complete report of the work that was currently in progress. Granted, the Time Lords already had most of that data already, but there was always the chance that something had been missed or was being kept secret from the oversight committees.

So far, the Doctor did not see anything the Time Lords would be even remotely interested in. Most it was superficial trickery like finding ways to make bitter vegetables taste like fruit or creating designer flowers for the vanity of wealthy donors. Mostly, it was a hodge-podge of genetic tampering with no aims beyond the cosmetic. Still, he dutifully cataloged it anyway, just so he could say that he had complied with his given orders without having to resort to his usual verbal sparring tactics.

There was one section of the files that was giving him trouble. Someone who was cleverer than his peers had used an encryption that was proving to be a challenge to crack. The Doctor knew that it would be easy to just copy the whole thing and let the grunts at the CIA worry about sorting it out. But that would mean a loose end, and how he loathed loose ends.

"Stupid, idiotic..." he grumbled, his fingers dancing over the keys. He was able to figure out that what had looked like ingenuity was just tedium layered upon tedium. Whoever had designed this code had counted on short attention spans and mounting frustration levels to encourage would-be hackers to give up.

They did not, however, count on someone as perpetually determined as the Doctor.

"There," the Doctor said, a smirk of satisfaction lighting up his face. "Now that that's out of the way, let's see what they were so determined to hide."

Minutes after he started to read, the Doctor wished that he had not been so thorough.

The files contained information on cloning experiments, many of which were horrifying in nature. There were lists of people who had been scanned and sampled, probably without their knowledge. These brain scans and bits of genetic material were being used to create clones whose sole purpose was for use in experiments. There was even information on how to customize a clone for specific types of tests. The Doctor's stomach turned when he viewed one of the video feeds that were made to demonstrate the validity of drug trials performed at accelerated rates on a group of clones. The sights and sounds he witnessed were sure to lurk in his nightmares for a long while.

The Doctor finished uploading the information and was about to upload the virus inhibitor when he saw a notation indicating that the laboratory across the hall had additional files on its computers which were not part of the main network. It was needlessly risky, but the Doctor decided to check on it.

After all…loose ends….

* * *

The Doctor's hands shook as he walked along the narrow walkways of the laboratory and took in the sights all around him.

The terminal in this lab only had marginally more data than the one he had commandeered. It was a swift, simple process to empty out its memory circuits and store everything onto the data cube he had brought with him. The Doctor was relieved to discover that the cloning program was pretty much defunct and that no new samples or scans had been taken in decades. Thanks to his special brand of sabotage and selective deletes of vital formulas, the Doctor had ensured that the program would be hard-pressed to ever start up again. Especially after he had used that same cybervirus he had been sent to destroy to alter the files that remained on the hard drives.

However, the mention of storage tanks that held a few remaining 'templates' had sent prickles of dread throughout his body. Despite the awareness that his chances of getting caught were increasing dramatically with each minute he stayed, the Doctor looked for those tanks, intent on making sure that whatever was there would be taken care of properly.

The tanks in question were large, circular globes of glass-like material with a light tan hue. The surface was clouded, but they were still transparent enough to see inside. There was only enough space inside each one for the humanoid clones to sit upright and maybe get up onto all fours. Inside, the floor of the globes were cushioned and had openings to allow food and water to be transported in and waste to be transported out. Every basic physical need had been considered in the design.

Not that the designers were concerned about things like the fact that their clones would never see the sun or have anyone hold their hands.

So far, the Doctor counted five corpses: clones who had died as a result of the experiments performed on them or who had aged to death. Granted, the short lifespan of these clones meant that it only took months for one of them to become elderly.

He had reached the last of them and was about to march out of this place in disgust when he saw a face, a face he should not have seen.

It was the aged face of his dear friend, Jamie McCrimmon.

The Doctor rushed over and stared at the face in the glass. To his shock, the face looked back at him. Hands pressed against the surface, one silent word emerged from the clone's lips: Doctor.

"Jamie!" he gasped. "Jamie, hold on. I'm going to get you out of there."

The Doctor ran back to the control console. His gestures frantic, he soon got Jamie's globe opened and lowered to the ground. Then he sprinted back to where he had found the piper and carefully helped Jamie out of his confinement.

"Doctor," Jamie said, his voice quavering. "Ye came. Ye finally found me. I, I was starting to think ye'd ne'er come."

The Doctor did his absolute best to beam at him while his mind tried to figure out how this was possible. Then it suddenly occurred to him. That previous mission, he had had Jamie with him. He recalled Jamie complaining about one of his fingers being pricked and there was that security gate the piper had gone through so as to distract the guards while the Doctor snuck into the building.

How could he have been so careless?

The Doctor understood now. This Jamie was a clone, the latest in a series that probably spanned centuries, each one of the living up to a year at the most. A clone that had all of Jamie's knowledge and memories up to that time when he had come here as part of a CIA mission. The Doctor did not know how he had missed Jamie's file in the records, but he would find it and make sure that no one else would ever see it again.

Including the Time Lords.

Jamie, unaccustomed to walking freely, stumbled to the ground almost as soon as he had made it to his feet. The Doctor caught him before he could hit the floor and held him in his lap. He caught glimpses of countless needle marks on Jamie's arms and had to use every ounce of willpower he had to remain smiling.

"I thought I was seein' things again when I saw ye," Jamie continued. "The stuff they give me…it makes me see all sorts of strange things. I, I cannae hardly believe ye're really here."

"Well I can assure you that I most certainly am here, Jamie," the Doctor said, stroking Jamie's dull, grey hair. "And now, I'm going to get you away from this place."

Tears of gratitude shone in Jamie's eyes even as he grinned in response. The Doctor helped him to his feet and had practically dragged Jamie out of the lab. He only stopped to finish his assigned mission and to seek out and destroy the samples that had been used to create Jamie's clone.

There would not be another one.

* * *

Minutes later, they were on the TARDIS with Jamie resting heavily in one of the chairs in the console room. The Doctor could sense the telepathic signals ordering him back to Gallifrey, but he ignored them. The summons grew even more insistent, but he would not pay them any heed.

Not until he was finished with the matters at hand.

"Doctor," Jamie groaned. "I'm so tired."

The Doctor smiled sympathetically and walked over to rub the piper's back. He had seen the vital signs meters on the control panel. Even though the drug experiments had weakened him to the point of death, it was old age that was killing this clone of Jamie. He had hours, maybe a day at the most, left to live.

"I know," the Doctor murmured. "That's why I'm taking you home, Jamie."

"To Scotland?" Jamie asked. The Doctor nodded. "No. Please. Let me stay wit' ye Doctor."

Fresh tears welled up in the piper's eyes and the Doctor crouched down in front of him.

"Don't worry," the Doctor said. "I'll stay with you."

"Ye will? But…what about the Time Lords, and, and the CIA. Doctor, they'll…."

"Jamie, it will be all right," the Doctor insisted as he enveloped Jamie into an embrace. "I'm going to stay with you. For however long you need."

* * *

They arrived on the moors just as the sun was beginning to rise. Jamie had deteriorated so much, the Doctor had to carry him out of the TARDIS. Once they were outside, the Doctor found a spot that gave a spectacular view of the scenery and gently lowered him to the ground.

"I dinna think I'd ever see this again," Jamie said, his expression content. "Jes look at that sunrise."

"Yes, it is beautiful," the Doctor said as he sat down beside him.

Jamie shivered and leaned back to rest against the Doctor's chest. The Doctor put his arms around him and held him close.

"Doctor, I…I really did wonder if ye would ever come," Jamie said quietly. "All that time, all those potions they kept pumping into me…I thought it was ne'er goin' to end. I…I was angry at ye sometimes and I, I thought that mebbe ye forgot aboot me. It had been so long. So long I waited. It was like ye dinna even ken I was here."

The Doctor closed his eyes. Months would have been like decades to this clone of Jamie and he wondered how many of these clones lived and died in horrible ways in that abomination of a laboratory. That question would haunt him for the rest of his lives.

Jamie shuddered, his skin too cold. The Doctor refused to tell his friend the truth about his being a clone and that he had only just learned of his existence. This Jamie had suffered too much already. There was no reason to add to his torment, not when he was so close to death.

"Jamie," the Doctor said. "I could never forget about you. I hope you know that. No matter how long it takes or how many battles I have to fight, I would never give up on you."

"Doctor…ye don' have to pretend," Jamie said, his voice soft and somber.

"Pretend? I don't understand what you mean by…."

"I know," Jamie interrupted. "I know that I'm nae real. I heard a couple of those scientists talk aboot it once when they thought I was sleeping. I'm jes a copy of the real Jamie McCrimmon."

"Jamie, listen to me," the Doctor said, turning the piper around to face him. "You are as real as me or anyone else in this universe. Just because they copied you from another person does not make your life any less meaningful or valuable."

Jamie stared at him silently for several minutes before leaning forward to hug him again.

"Thank ye, Doctor. Thank ye for that. For nae caring if I was real or nae."

The Doctor held him even closer as his own eyes grew wet. A part of him still wanted to protest Jamie's notion that he wasn't a real person, but he was aware that it was mainly a matter of semantics at this point.

"Doctor, could ye tell me one thing?" Jamie asked.

"What is it?"

"The other me, the real me," Jamie continued. "What is he doin' now? What happened to him?"

"He…you are back in Scotland these days," the Doctor answered. "You had a beautiful wife and several lovely children who are living with you on your estate."

"Ye mean, I don' see ye anymore?" Jamie asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Not…as often no," the Doctor said. "I stop by when I can, of course…."

"Did he…did I travel wit' ye after that whole thing that got me here?" Jamie inquired. "Did I stay wit' ye for a while longer?"

"Yes Jamie," the Doctor said, nearly choking on the words. "You stayed with me for many years. It wasn't always pleasant, as I know you can imagine with the wretched CIA looking over our shoulders most of the time. But, there were many happy moments, thanks to you."

A huge grin appeared on Jamie's face as he squeezed the Doctor again. The Doctor found himself grinning back, despite the way his hearts were breaking.

"Then, it's ok," Jamie said. "As long as he…I…did all that, it's ok."

"Jamie…."

"Doctor, listen," Jamie said. "I know that I have nae much longer. And I think ye ken what I'm feelin' tae. At least this version of ye anyway. We're both nearing the end. I…I'm jes asking for one favor. For me."

"Anything."

"I'm asking ye to go back and see me, the real me, one last time," Jamie said. "I know I won' care aboot where we end up goin' or how dangerous 'tis. Jes, let me have one last time wit' ye. Please, Doctor."

"All right, Jamie," the Doctor said. "I promise, I will do what you ask."

"Thank ye," Jamie smiled again. "And here I thought I'd have to argue wit' ye again, ye daft old man."

Both of them chuckled for almost a minute before Jamie shivered even more violently again. The Doctor took off his coat and wrapped it around the piper before holding him close again.

"Doctor," Jamie slurred. "I'm so cold…so tired…."

"Then rest, Jamie," the Doctor murmured. "I'll stay with you."

Jamie grinned one more time before his eyes slid shut and he slumped against the Doctor. A pair of tears slid down the Doctor's cheeks as he cradled him while watching the sun continue to rise.

An hour later, the Doctor realized that Jamie would not wake up again.

* * *

It was almost nightfall before the Doctor was ready to leave for Gallifrey.

After Jamie slipped away, the Doctor had made arrangements to bury him in an isolated area of the moors. He wrapped the piper's body in a winding sheet and placed a wooden plate onto his chest after lowering him down into his grave. Onto the plate went a handful of dirt, to represent this body which would eventually decay, and a handful of salt, to represent Jamie's soul which never would. The Doctor wished he could create a proper marker for this grave, but he could not allow even the remote possibility that Jamie or one of his relatives could stumble upon it.

Once he was done, the Doctor sang a song he had heard Jamie sing once at the funeral of one of his distant relatives. At the back of his mind, he thought about the consequences that were probably awaiting him back at Gallifrey, but right now he could not begin to care about them.

He had made a promise. And even if it was truly the last thing he would do, the Doctor would find a way to keep this promise.


	2. Without a Sound

Author's Note: Next chapter. This one takes place some time after _The Invasion_.

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated.

Without a Sound

Somewhere in the recesses of his brain, which was currently trapped inside a throbbing head, the Doctor wasn't all that shocked that this happened.

* * *

He remembered stopping by the planet Geolous many years ago when he was still traveling with Susan. They both had marveled at the colorful flowers and the fruits hanging off every tree branch around them. The Doctor had taken a few pieces of the fruit to examine as specimens, but Susan had impulsively eaten one of them. She had enjoyed it so much, the Doctor decided that there was no harm in joining her. They ended up eating most of their "specimens" while sitting on a lush patch of blue grass and watching birds fly in loops in the sky.

It wasn't until a few hours later that they both had come down with a fever which led the most atrocious migraines they had ever experienced. For a brief time, the Doctor thought that they had been infected with some kind of mind parasite. Susan was still able to tend to the most basic operations of the TARDIS, but the Doctor had been so stricken with pain, he could barely see straight or even move.

Fortunately, the effects were temporary and subsequent tests on themselves showed no lasting effects. For a long time after that, the two of them were much more cautious about what they ate on the worlds they visited, and the Doctor made a secret vow to avoid spending any more time on Geolous.

Still, the TARDIS had a strange way of returning to planets he had visited before when he least suspected it. He recognized Geolous only a few seconds after he stepped out of the TARDIS along with Jamie and Zoe. As soon as he realized where he was, he turned around and was ready to immediately take off again.

"Oh come, Doctor," Zoe had said. "You said yourself that you hardly explored this planet the last time you were here."

"And ye said that there were no nasty beasties here, right?" Jamie chimed in. "So what's to worry aboot? It'll be a nice change from the usual trouble we land in."

"Oh all right," the Doctor finally huffed with a shake of his head. "But whatever you do, do _not_ eat any of the fruits here. They may look harmless, but I can assure that they are not."

Jamie and Zoe both gave their word that they would not consume any of the local vegetation, and the three of them ventured out into the forest. At one point, the trees parted and the ruins of an ancient village lay in front of them. Delighted at their find, the Doctor spent over three hours investigating every abandoned dwelling. Zoe explored the ruins with him, the two of them theorizing about the culture that had once lived there. Meanwhile, Jamie wandered off by himself, admiring the mosaics on the walls for a time until finally settling under the shade of a tree to take a nap.

Eventually, the Doctor noted that Jamie had been gone for a while and went to look for him with Zoe close behind. They soon found the piper fast asleep under the tree. Zoe was about to go wake him when a loud 'crack' caught the Doctor's attention. He grabbed her arm to still her and was horrified when he realized that the slow, creaking sound he heard was the trunk of the tree breaking apart. It wasn't long until the noise woke Jamie up.

"Doctor? Zoe? What's goin' on?" he yawned as he rubbed sleep-filled eyes. "Where's that noise…?"

"Jamie," the Doctor said, edging toward the tree. "Keep very still."

"Why? What…?"

"That tree you're under is splintering from the inside," the Doctor cut in. "I've seen it happen here before. Right now, it could fall apart at any minute. You'll be crushed by those branches."

Jamie glanced up for a few seconds, his eyes widening at the thick branches drooping over his head, before returning his gaze to the Doctor's face.

"Jamie, I need you get ready to jump toward me when I give the word," the Doctor said, continuing his incremental advance. "Careful now. Keep your movements slow and quiet. That's it."

Zoe fidgeted in place as she watched Jamie shift into a crouching position and the Doctor shuffle forward until he was almost within arm's length of the Highlander. Once he was in position, the Doctor held out both his arms toward Jamie.

"Now Jamie!"

Jamie sprang toward the Doctor, who grabbed the piper with both hands and threw himself and Jamie backward just as the tree trunk split open in a burst of splinters and shards of bark. Overripe fruit that was hanging from the branches exploded as it hit the ground. The Doctor and Jamie happened to be on the ground near the spot where a large portion of the fruit landed, causing them to be splattered with chunks of the rinds and flesh. By the time it was over, the pair of them were covered in slimy bits of purplish pulp and tiny pearl-white seeds with juice dripping down the tips of their hair.

At first, Zoe's mouth hung open due to anxiety over the condition of her two friends and then in amazement at their bedraggled appearance. Her very next response was laughter.

"Och, ye think it's funny, do ye?" Jamie said, a threat in his tone. "Right, how aboot ye try a 'wee bit of this fruit yerself then?"

Zoe backed away, confident that the piper would make good on his warning, but the Doctor put a hand on Jamie's arm before he could act.

"No Jamie," he sighed. "Let's just get back to the TARDIS. I have no desire to become a meal plate for any insects that might be attracted to this glop."

Zoe giggled again, and Jamie glared at her every step of the way back to the TARDIS. Once they were inside both Jamie and the Doctor immediately went to their rooms to change clothes and clean up. Other than some good-natured jibes that were sure to pass between Jamie and Zoe for the next few hours, the Doctor figured that that would be the end of it.

Unfortunately, that prediction turned out to be overly optimistic.

After he had washed away the last remnants of the fruit away and had dressed himself in a fresh outfit, the Doctor had dematerialized into the Vortex and went to make supper for everyone. He was just finishing up and had asked Jamie to set the table when he felt his cheeks flush and the first twinges of pain in his skull.

"No, no it's not possible," the Doctor muttered as he placed a hand to his forehead. "I didn't eat any of the fruit this time and made sure not to let any of the juice or seeds get into my mouth."

Beads of sweat formed on his brow, and the Doctor moaned as he wiped them away.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor opened his eyes and wondered when he had closed them. He felt a hand on his arm and looked over to see Jamie standing next to him, concern in his eyes.

"It's all right, Jamie," he assured him. "Just a little tired is all. Let Zoe know that the food is ready, all right?"

The piper patted his shoulder and left the kitchen. The Doctor paused for another minute to compose himself before putting the food on the table.

The dinner turned out to be a pleasant affair. Zoe and Jamie teased each other much like the Doctor guessed they would, and he actually felt a little better after getting something to eat. At the end of the meal, Jamie went to his room to practice on his chanter. Zoe finished what was on her plate and offered to take care of the dishes when the Doctor groaned and clutched the sides of his head.

"Doctor?" Zoe said as she walked over to him. "Doctor, are you all right?"

"What?" the Doctor said. "Oh, oh yes. Yes, I'm fine. I'm…no, oh no…."

The Doctor closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. He suddenly realized that, even though he hadn't eaten the fruit on Geolous this time, the juice and rinds must be toxic to the touch for Gallifreyans just the same.

"I'll be all right, Zoe," he said. "It's just that blasted fruit. Some of the juice must have gotten into my system."

"Absorbed through the skin, perhaps," Zoe said. "That's not too surprising given how you were covered in that fruit residue. Is there anything we can do, Doctor?"

"No, not really," the Doctor said. "It'll pass in time. I just need to lie down for a while is all."

The Doctor stood up from his chair. He tried to walk out of the room, but staggered against the table instead. Zoe took him by the arm and guided him toward his bedroom.

"Thank you, Zoe," he said as they walked over to his bed. "I'll just be a few hours. You'll make sure to keep an eye on the power levels in the console room and let me know if there's any change, won't you?"

"Of course," she said. "Are you sure that there aren't any medicines in the sick bay that you could take to help with your condition? I could get them for you."

"Well there is a neural relaxant I could take to help with the pain," the Doctor mused. "Could you get that for me? Third shelf of the medicine cabinet and all the way to the end. You'll see a clear bottle with round, yellow pills."

Zoe nodded and left the room to fetch the pills. Meanwhile the Doctor shrugged off his coat, draping it over a chair next to his bed. He slipped his shoes off and pushed his braces off his shoulders just as Zoe returned with a glass of water and a small vial.

"Oh yes, that's the one," the Doctor said. "Thank you, Zoe."

The Doctor shook a pair of pills out of the bottle and popped them into his mouth before taking a long sip of the water. Then he sat the water onto his nightstand and laid down. Zoe placed a blanket over him.

"Are you sure that you don't need anything else, Doctor?" she asked him. "It looks as though your temperature is elevated." She reached down and placed her fingers on one of his wrists. "Your pulses are unsteady too."

"I'll be fine, Zoe," he insisted. "I told you, I've put up with this before. It never lasts more than a few hours. Now, don't fuss me. Just let me rest."

"All right, Doctor," she said. "But I will come back in two hours to check on you."

"Fair enough," the Doctor murmured as he closed his eyes.

He listened to Zoe's footsteps as she left the room. He was grateful for the blanket she had thought to cover him with and pulled it up to his shoulders. Once he was done positioning it, he laid down on his back and waited for the TARDIS to lower the lights in his room down to dim.

'_If I keep perfectly still, the pain should subside marginally,' _he thought to himself. '_Yes, all I have to do is not move and not try to think too much either.'_

The Doctor worked to find a good balance between becoming completely rigid and suitably relaxed. Using skills he had learned from Tibetan monks, he had almost achieved it when he heard door to his bedroom open, a sliver of light running over his bed.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor sighed. He had thought that it was Zoe coming to tell him about some issue in the console room. However, the soft, Scottish burr told him that he had a new visitor.

"I'm all right, Jamie," he said, anticipating the piper's next question. Even as he said this, the Doctor was aware that he wasn't being very convincing. If it this was anything like the last time, he was probably pale, sweating and speaking in a voice enfeebled by pain.

"Zoe told me aboot how ye were sick and said that I should stop my bagpipe playing so ye could get some rest," Jamie said as he walked in. "She said ye'd been poisoned by that fruit.

The Doctor's lips twitched as he tried to hold back a smile. He was pretty sure that Zoe had her own reasons for asking Jamie to stop practicing which had nothing to do with his condition, but he wisely decided to keep that to himself.

"Well, 'poisoned' might be too strong a word, Jamie," he said. "It's more like eating something that disagrees with you and having to wait a day for it to pass. Ap_-pear-_ently that fruit was more toxic than I thought."

"Och, ye must be all right if ye can still make jokes like that," Jamie said with a smirk.

The Doctor chuckled, but immediately regretted it as another spike of pain reverberated in his head. Concerned, Jamie moved closer and put his hand on the Doctor's shoulder.

"Doctor, are ye sure ye're all right?"

The Doctor let out another sigh. He was grateful that his companions cared for him so much, but having to keep reassuring them meant talking far more than he wanted to right now.

"Jamie, I already told Zoe not to fuss me," he said. "Now please, go away and let me have some peace and quiet for a change, all right?"

Jamie stared at him for another moment before looking down at the floor. There had been a flicker of hurt in the piper's eyes. The Doctor worried that he had been too harsh with him and then he realized that Jamie probably felt responsible for his current condition given how it was the result of rescuing the piper from being crushed by that tree.

"Jamie…."

The Scot turned on his heel and walked out of the room without another word. The Doctor started to get up to go after him, but even that small amount of movement created another wave of pain, causing him to moan and close his eyes again until it passed.

Just as he was about to try again, he heard the sound of boot-heels walking on the floor. He opened his eyes to see that Jamie had returned with a balled up washcloth in his hand. The piper knelt down beside the bed and gently patted the Doctor's forehead with it, the fabric damp and cool.

"Feel any better?" Jamie asked.

At first, the Doctor didn't answer, grateful that he had not hurt Jamie's feelings too much and worried that he might snap again if he opened his mouth. However, it wasn't long until he had to admit that the piper's ministrations felt blissful.

"Yes, thank you, Jamie," he murmured. "How did you….?"

"My father used to do this for my brother, Hamish when he was a bairn and used to get those pains in his head," Jamie answered. "He always said it made him feel better."

The Doctor gave a tiny nod and closed his eyes again as Jamie continued to dab his head. After a few more minutes of this, the piper stopped and put his hand on the top of the Doctor's head near the crown.

"Rest now," Jamie whispered. "I promise to be quiet, and ye don' have to say another word to me. Jes let me stay so I can be here if ye need me."

This time the Doctor did nothing to hide his smile. It was a smile of contentment, but also of wonder over how he could have gained such a friend in his random travels.

"Thank you, Jamie," he said quietly.

The Doctor heard Jamie move into what was probably a more comfortable position before becoming still, his hand on the Doctor's head. The warmth from the Scot's fingers and palm radiated into his scalp and became a soothing balm for the ache in his skull. The pain was too great for him to actually fall asleep, so instead, the Doctor let himself drift into fluid daydreams and reverie. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard music and felt a breeze that was fragrant with heather.

Both of them ended up staying like that for hours. A quiet moment that was only focused on the gentle touch between two who were connected beyond the need for words.


	3. Don't Wander Off

Author's Note: Next chapter. This was a little ficlet that came to me one day. I had thought about leaving it as is, but I was persuaded to write a second part. So this is the first of a two-shot set of ficlets. I'll be posting the second half in the next chapter.

Time-line wise, this takes place shortly after _The Web of Fear._

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated. :)

And thank you to my anon **guest** review. I hope you will enjoy this next chapter as well. :D

Don't wander off

"_And this time, do as you're told and don't wander off."_

Don't wander off. Isn't that what he always tried to say to his companions? It was a piece of advice that the Doctor found himself dispensing over and over again partially because it was the one that seemed to get ignored the most often.

Susan would sometimes wander off when they first started to travel together, but over time, he was able to make her see reason and convince her that it was safer to stay with him. Of course, he never wanted to stifle her natural curiosity. That was one of the many reasons why he took her away from Gallifrey in the first place.

In fact, it wasn't until he started traveling with humans that he needed to start saying it again. Those schoolteachers were so frightened and confused by what was happening around them at first, but over time they conquered their reluctance and began to be curious wanderers too. The Doctor grew fond of his accidental stowaways and it was for their own protection that he tried to discourage them from straying too far from him.

Eventually, Barbara and Ian left and others came. First Vicki, then Steven, and Dodo. All of them were eager to see more of the places they went to. All of them were so prone to getting themselves into trouble partially because they forgot about his warnings to stay together until he understood what was going on. He still told them to not wander off, but he admitted that it was often a losing battle.

Ben and Polly were really no better about it. Of course, they didn't believe him at first when he explained that they were now travelers in time and space and it was even harder when he regenerated. Still, over time they grew to trust him…even if they didn't always listen to his warnings about running off without him. And he grew to care for them even more in this new incarnation.

Admittedly, the Doctor eventually did realize that he should have thanked Ben for ignoring him that one time when they landed in Scotland's past. If the sailor had not wandered off to explore the countryside, he would have never met Jamie and would have never gained one of the dearest friends he would ever know.

Jamie's inquisitiveness turned out be insatiable and sometimes rivaled his own. Behind his affected sullen demeanor was a mind willing to ask the important questions. Plus, he came from a time and a culture where he would have already been considered a man, despite his young age, and thus would have been expected to be willing to be responsible for others.

Unfortunately, this also meant that Jamie's tendency to wander off and act on his own was even stronger than that of many of his past companions. Jamie was loyal and dependable, but that didn't mean that he blindly obeyed every instruction given to him. Especially if it went against his morals and code of honor. Even more so, if he was convinced that he needed to do something to defend the people closest to his heart.

All of this led to disastrous results during the Doctor's most recent battle with the Great Intelligence. All appeared lost to him until the last few minutes when he managed to find a way to manipulate the Yeti's control spheres and was given a chance to tamper with the helmet that would be used to absorb his mind. The Doctor had secretly smiled, pleased that he would not only win, but make sure that the Great Intelligence would not have a chance to harm anyone ever again.

That is, until Jamie decided to use the Yeti under their control for his own purposes.

"_You're just as bad! I told you to leave to me, and now you've gone and ruined everything!"_

Rationally, the Doctor knew that Jamie was only trying to protect him. The Highlander had sensed what the loss of his intellect and his memories would mean to the Doctor and had done what he could to save his mind. Not to mention the fact that Jamie simply didn't know about his plans and would have acted differently if he had known.

However, that hadn't made the sting of defeat any easier for the Doctor to take. He still brooded over the fact that the Great Intelligence would inevitably strike again. It was only a matter of when, not if. The only question was how many more people would have to suffer before he stopped it once and for all.

It was that frustration lurking in the corners of his mind that prompted the Doctor to use that incident as a way to encourage Jamie to stay put until he got back. Someone needed to keep an eye on the latest activities of the regional governor and the Doctor assigned Jamie to this task. The piper grumbled at not being allowed to accompany him on their way to get Victoria back, but the Doctor was able to stop his complaints with a reminder of the last time that he didn't follow through with the Doctor's instructions. That was enough to put a halt to any more objections.

"_Promise me you'll stay here and keep watch. No matter what happens."_

"_Aye, ye have my word."_

'_A Highlander's word is his bond.'_ He said that to Ben not long after they had met Jamie. The Doctor knew that Jamie would stay where he was because the Scot had promised him to. And Jamie would never break a promise to him. He would remain there until the Doctor returned for him.

There was no way the Doctor could have known that the man they were fighting was even madder than the refugees had reported him to be.

There was no way the Doctor could have guessed that the regional governor had just had a falling out with this recently empowered dictator just this morning.

There was no way that the Doctor could have anticipated that this man, a man consumed by paranoia and malice would actually go as far as to send a missile to the capital, effectively destroying the main base of finance and technological advancement for the entire planet.

As a result, there was no possible way that the Doctor could have foreseen the moment when he would be standing on a hilltop miles away from the city he had left Jamie in and watching it burn in pillars of flame.

'_No! No, he can't do this! He's destroying everything that made this planet into one of the most advanced and civilized in this part of the galaxy. Doesn't he understand?' _

'_All those people…all of them dead….'_

'_Jamie was there with them.'_

'_Because I made him promise to not wander off.'_

'_And Jamie never breaks his promises. Not to me.'_

The Doctor stood and stared at the ruined metropolis, now just a funeral pyre for thousands of souls, one of his closest friends among them.

"I am sorry, Doctor," Ancelo, his guide for this journey, said to him. "I realize that you have now lost someone too in this bloody uprising."

The Doctor nodded and waved his hand at Ancelo in an effort to keep the other man away. He couldn't let anyone close to him right now. His grief was too raw, too encompassing to allow anything to come near him for several moments.

"We should go now," Ancelo finally said. "There is the young lady to attend to."

"Yes, yes you're right," the Doctor said quietly. "Lead the way."

Ancelo nodded and was solicitous enough to walk ahead and keep his face turned toward the path ahead of him. The Doctor made sure to be aware of his surroundings even as he walked with his head down. He had no idea what he would say to Victoria, and right now, he found it difficult to care about such concerns. He might tell her to stay close to him and not wander off while he finally put an end to this butchery.

But he doubted that his hearts would ever let those words emerge from his lips again.


	4. Stay Close to Me

Author's Note: Next chapter. Sorry I've been so silent of late. Back to university studies and I'm trying to get into a new routine.

Anyway, this is the second half of the short-fic that I started in the last chapter (Don't Wander Off).

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated.

Stay close to me

Two days later, the Doctor was sitting near a window that opened up onto a balcony that overlooked the heart of the city far to the east of the one that had been obliterated.

He had succeeded in deposing the tyrant who had seized power through a campaign of terror and murder. Many of the soldiers in the dictator's army were eager to change sides after getting a taste of his oppressive style of leadership. Thus, it was easy to organize a revolt at various strategic locations and capture the troops who remained loyal to this despot. The coup d'état was pulled off with only a few lives lost. Rather than be taken alive and face justice, the dictator took his own life.

Word of what had happened to their sister city had reached here by this point. Many of these people had lost friends and family in the destruction of the capital. Having the specter of death hang over them for so long, however, had made it so that loss had become part of daily life. They had learned to stretch their sorrows into a thin line that spanned months or maybe even years. That way, they could dole out their sadness out, a little at a time, rather than drown in it all at once. It was the only way they could cope under the conditions they were forced to live in.

Unfortunately, the same was true for the Doctor. Only, in his case, that sadness could last decades or maybe even centuries.

Dull blue eyes like lead turned toward the city outside. The Doctor could sense that the people had made the conscious decision to wait until tomorrow to begin the mourning process and to start rebuilding their society. Tonight, they would honor those who had died in the cause of liberation by allowing themselves to be truly joyful for the first time in years. He could hear cheers and laughter and even a few strains of music bubbling up from the crowd. Exuberance was such an unfamiliar feeling to them that they couldn't help but embrace it.

The Doctor's hands lay motionless in his lap. It almost felt selfish, focusing on the death of one when so many other lives had been destroyed. He tried to be happy for the people who would now be able to live free and peacefully, but his hearts were far too heavy.

He had asked for a place where he could be left alone while he waited to be reunited with Victoria. The magistrate, who had taken control of the city, had accommodated him by giving him the finest guestroom in his mansion. Ancelo had dropped by to see him not long after he had settled in the room and had left him a tray of food and drink. After that, the Doctor had remained in quiet solitude.

The Doctor looked up at the night sky, his eyes growing wet. While he was focused on rescuing Victoria and getting rid of the evil man who had numerous lands in his grasp, he had pushed aside any thoughts of Jamie out of necessity. It had turned out to be even more difficult than he had originally thought to get Victoria away from the rebels who had accidently picked her up. On top of that, his opponent was insane, but clever enough to question everyone and everything. Thus, it took even more guile than usual for the Doctor to find a weak point to exploit. He needed all of his mental acuity and nerve to pull off the plans he had cobbled together as he learned more about the situation. Nothing, not even the loss of his piper, could be allowed to distract him.

However, now it was all over. Now, there was nothing left to think about other than the void that Jamie's death had created. That and the fact that he was the one who was responsible for it.

The Doctor eyes burned, causing him to blink rapidly. He had had a chance to briefly speak to Victoria earlier that day. Enough to know that she was well and looking forward to seeing him and Jamie again. The Doctor hadn't told her what had happened to Jamie. This was something that had be shared in person and privately, not over a faulty monitor screen blurred by static. She was due to arrive in the early morning, and the Doctor hoped that he would be able find the words he needed to say to her by then.

Another round of cheers erupted. The Doctor couldn't begrudge their jubilation, but still wished that he could drown out those joyful sounds.

He hung his head and covered his face with his hands. Logically, he knew that asking Jamie to stay put and learn all he could about their enemies' plans was the sensible decision to make. He imagined that he probably would have made the same choice if he had had a chance to do it all over again. Still, the Doctor knew that he would always regret both his decision and that his last words to Jamie were spoken with exasperation and were used to coerce the piper into following orders by reminding him of his mistakes.

'_Jamie…Jamie, I…I….'_

"Doctor?"

Startled, the Doctor nearly fell out of his chair. For a second, he was sure that he had heard Jamie's voice, faint, but distinctive. He stood up onto shaky legs and walked around the room, straining to listen for confirmation of what he could hardly believe was true. Seconds later, he heard footsteps approach.

The Doctor rushed over to open the door to reveal a weary, but very much alive Jamie McCrimmon on the other side.

"Jamie," he breathed, his eyes wide with shock.

"Ah, there ye are," Jamie said as he walked into the room. "Ancelo said that ye were up here waitin' for Victoria and that some of the rebels were bringin' her back here. Hey, is she all right?"

"She's fine," the Doctor said, his voice unsteady. "She'll be here tomorrow. But Jamie…you…you were supposed to be…."

The piper looked down and away, his shoulders slumping.

"I know promised ye that I would keep watch over the governor," Jamie mumbled. "But while I was finding a place to hide so I could keep an eye on him, I heard someone scream. I looked outside and saw one o' the guards threatenin' this group of lassies with his gun. The poor girls were crying, but he was jes laughing at them. I tell ye, I could nae stand there and do nothing. I jumped the guard and helped them escape. Then they begged me to help them sneak out of the city so they could go somewhere safe. We managed to steal this transport thing and drive it a ways into the desert before it went to pieces."

The piper let out a sigh. When he lifted his head, there was a rueful expression on his face.

"I thought it would nae take long, but I ended up havin' to stay wit' them 'til we got to the next village," he continued. "Then their friends gave me a ride here. I went to look for ye when I saw Ancelo, and he told me where ye were. I, I'm sorry, Doctor. I broke my word, and there's no excuse for it. Ancelo said that ye were able to stop that murderer, and I'm glad for that. For a while there, I thought that I might have ruined yer plans again, jes like wit' the Great Intelligence."

The Doctor felt a twinge in both hearts. For the last two days, he had thought that Jamie was dead and that it was entirely his fault. And now Jamie was the one apologizing to him for breaking a promise that would have cost him his life had he kept it.

'_He doesn't know,' _he told himself. '_He doesn't know what happened to that city after he left it. Oh Jamie….'_

Jamie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion over the mix of emotions apparent in the expression on Doctor's face.

"Doctor?" he said, reaching out to put his hands on the Doctor's arms. "Doctor, are ye all right?"

The Doctor responded by grabbing Jamie and holding him close. He was saddened by the thought that the piper had carried this burden for two days, however, that regret could not eclipse the euphoria he felt over finding Jamie alive and well. Jamie was initially startled by the embrace, but had quickly reciprocated it. The Doctor closed his eyes for a moment and held him even tighter while letting himself be comforted by the warm, affectionate contact.

"Doctor…?"

"I'm all right, Jamie," he said, a smile appearing on his face for the first time in days. "More importantly, so are you. And you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. Saving people's lives is not something you should ever be ashamed of. In fact, it's I who should be apologizing to you for making you feel as if I was disappointed in you in some way."

"But if it were nae for me, the Great Intelligence…."

"There's no way you could have known about my plan," the Doctor interrupted. "And who knows? Perhaps it's for the best. After all, it's hard to say what might have happened if I had absorbed that wicked mind into my own, isn't it?"

The Doctor released his hold on him and looked Jamie in the eye.

"What's important is that you remember this one thing," he said. "That I will always be grateful to have known you and called you friend, James Robert McCrimmon."

Jamie's eyes lit up with joy, a wide grin appearing. The Doctor beamed back at him, pleased to see him so happy. He knew that he would have to tell Jamie about what had happened to the capital city at some point, but decided that that would be left for tomorrow morning before Victoria arrived. For now, he would follow the example of the people outside and let himself and Jamie enjoy the rest of the night and the celebration around them.

"Is that food for us?" Jamie said, his attention riveted to the untouched tray that Ancelo had brought. "I'm fare famished. All I've had for the last two days was water. Ye would nae believe what happened to me out there in that desert…."

The Doctor chuckled and walked over with Jamie to the table. As they ate their meal, the piper related adventures of dodging various patrols and fighting off a "tall, purple, scaly beastie". The Doctor made sure to listen, but was still occasionally distracted by his awareness of all the little, simple joys and quirks of Jamie's company that he had thought he would never get to experience again.

"Hey, look at that!" Jamie said, pointing at the window. "Up in the sky."

Jamie rushed out onto the balcony with the Doctor close behind. Streaks of light shot upwards and then split apart into what looked like flower petals of numerous colors and hues. The petals glowed and twisted about in the gentle night breezes as they floated down to the ground.

"It's so beautiful," Jamie said, not even attempting to hide his awe for a change. The Doctor smiled and moved to stand next to him.

"Yes, it is, Jamie," he murmured.

The lights from the petals danced in Jamie's eyes as he continued to watch them fall. He took a couple steps to the side and rested his hands on the Doctor's shoulders, one of his forearms lying against the Doctor's upper arm.

The Doctor's smile grew. Touch was not only a friendly gesture between them. It was also another way that they communicated with each other. Often, it was just as effective as words. Sometimes, even more so. Right now, it was clear from his touch that Jamie had sensed that something had troubled him, and he was letting his friend know that he would be here for as long as the Doctor needed him. The Doctor acknowledged all of this by patting one of Jamie's hands.

'_Stay close to me,' _he silently requested. The Doctor didn't say it out loud because he knew that he wouldn't have to. That belief was validated when Jamie squeezed his shoulder indicating that he would do just that.

Another burst of light and color exploded in front of them. In the streets below, hundreds of people were dancing, shouting, and singing as they celebrated their victory and the new life that had been given to them. While on the balcony, there was this quiet moment of connection between two friends who were deeply thankful to be together.

For the Doctor and Jamie, that would always be more than enough.


	5. The Price of Blood for Time

Author's Note: Next chapter. This one is set in 6B and is the first of three one-shots that act as a prequel to another story, _The Ties That Bind_, which I am planning to start up on Frazer Hines' birthday as part of a tribute. I will be posting one of these a week up to September 22nd.

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated.

The Price of Blood for Time

The only thing Jamie McCrimmon could see in that moment was blood.

He and the Doctor had been sent on what was supposed to be another "routine assignment" by Goth, who was acting as temporary head of the CIA while Sardon was involved with other matters related to the High Council. It was the third such "routine assignment" the two of them had had in as many weeks, and the piper was aware that the strain was taking its toll on the Doctor. What always started out as orders to simply observe and report almost inevitably turned into frantic struggles to survive…while still being expected to have observations to report.

Jamie sat on the floor of the TARDIS, cradling the limp body of the Doctor in his arms. This time, they had actually thought that they would be able to complete one of their missions without any troubles. The scientists that the Doctor was asked to investigate were easily tricked into giving them access to their laboratories and their records department. The Doctor's way with words was sufficient to extract some of the information they needed from the staff while his skill with computer systems took care of the rest. Afterwards, the Doctor and Jamie were even able to enjoy a sumptuous meal with the chief scientist before departing with tidings for a pleasant journey.

In fact, things had gone so well, the Doctor had started to make plans as they walked back toward the TARDIS. They would take a quick holiday at the Eye of Orion after they had handed in his report. Or perhaps they would drop by Florana. The Doctor had been meaning revisit that beautiful planet for a long time. Jamie listened as he described a place that sounded so wondrous, it had to be a dwelling place for fey people.

They were so caught up in their planning; they didn't notice the wild Grasil following them. Unfortunately, by the time they did, it was too late.

"Jamie," the Doctor moaned as he shivered violently. He blindly grabbed at the piper's shirt with a blood-stained hand. There were already numerous blotches of thick scarlet all over Jamie's clothes, making it so that he barely noticed it when the Doctor added a couple more to his sleeve. Jamie gently pried open the clenched fingers on his shirt and placed the Doctor's hand into his.

"I'm here, Doctor," he said. "I'm here. We're back in the TARDIS. I, I hit that emergency button ye told me aboot and it's taking us to Gallifrey. We'll be back any minute."

"Jamie…are you…all right?" the Doctor said in stuttering gasps. "It…it didn't…."

"Och no, it dinna have a chance to touch me after I got it in the back of the neck wit' my dirk," Jamie said. "Ye were the only one daft enough to jump right in front of it."

Jamie swallowed hard. He was trying to keep his tone light, but he couldn't escape the unspoken fact that the Doctor had shoved him to the side and out of danger while he leapt into the monster's path. If the Doctor hadn't done those two things, he probably would have escaped unscathed. Instead, he was caught up in that thing's claws for almost a full minute before Jamie was able to kill it by following the Doctor's shouted instructions.

The piper looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood. Blood that should have been his own.

Suddenly, the lights faded in and out in the TARDIS and it shuddered. The space-time ship felt as if it was being tossed about in a violent sea of temporal waves.

"Doctor, what's happening?!" Jamie yelled over the din of the instruments.

"The TARDIS," the Doctor gasped. "She…she doesn't like these…rough trips…."

"Eh?" Jamie said, looking back down at the drawn, grey face in his lap. "What do ye mean?"

"Emergency override," the Doctor replied. "She…she knows…but they push her anyway…."

The Doctor shuddered again. His eyes were heavy-lidded and glassy. For a moment, Jamie thought that he would pass out, but then the Doctor's body grew rigid, his eyes snapping wide open.

"No…no!" he groaned. "I must…I must not…It's not time…."

"Doctor? Doctor, what is it?"

"Must…fight," the Doctor said. "Must not…let it happen…."

"Fight what?" the piper said, his voice tinged with a growing panic. "Doctor, what is it?"

"Jamie…help me…must not…."

"Doctor…."

"Must not…regenerate," the Doctor slurred. "Not time…I can't now…I…I…"

Jamie's heart pounded in his chest, the sound rushing through his body. If the Doctor was worried about regeneration, it meant only one thing: he was dying. The Doctor had explained to him that regeneration was a Time Lord's way of escaping death and was sometimes necessary in order to survive fatal injury.

And yet, for some terrifying reason, the Doctor was apparently fighting the process.

"Doctor," Jamie said, a crack in his voice. "Don' fight it. Please, don' fight. I...I don' want ye to die. Jes go ahead and change."

"No," the Doctor said, grabbing Jamie's arm again. "I…can't. I haven't…you…you and Zoe…I haven't…."

Tears wobbled in Jamie's eyes. Now he understood why the Doctor was struggling against his body's instinct toward regeneration. No matter how it came about, rather it be by accident, the High Council's decree, or the Doctor's own decision, regeneration meant the beginning of his exile on Earth. Jamie also knew that it meant that the CIA would be the ones to decide his fate and that nothing would be done for Zoe.

The Doctor was risking death to make sure he could secure his companions' futures.

The TARDIS lurched again before suddenly calming down. Then Jamie heard the familiar grind of the Vortex releasing back into normal time before the TARDIS became completely still.

"Jamie," the Doctor whispered. "Open the doors."

"Aye," the piper said with a hard sniff. He gingerly placed the Doctor onto the floor and got up onto his knees so he could flick the door switch. Seconds after he did so, a pair of Gallifreyan security guards rushed in.

"Quick! Get help!" Jamie shouted. "The Doctor's been hurt!"

One of the security guards nodded and ran out of the TARDIS while the other one knelt down and examined the Doctor's prone body. Jamie maneuvered him back into his lap and grasped his hand while explaining what had happened to the guard.

"Jamie," the Doctor murmured again as his eyes closed.

"I'm still here," the Scot said, patting his hand. "Ye're goin' to be fine now, ye'll see."

Soon a team of medics showed up with a hover-stretcher to transport the Doctor. They carefully moved him onto the floating apparatus and steered it out of the TARDIS. Jamie stood up and accompanied them while still holding onto the Doctor's hand. Not long after that, the Doctor fell unconscious.

"Is he, is he goin' to be all right?" Jamie said as they rushed along the passageway.

"His wounds are severe," one of the medics said. "Quite honestly, I'm surprised that he hasn't started to regenerate."

"I believe you'll find that there are many things that are surprising about the Doctor."

Jamie whirled around and saw Goth marching swiftly toward him, a pair of security guards following close behind. It only took the Time Lord seconds to catch up with them.

"Ye," Jamie said with a glare. "What are ye…?"

"Lord Goth, the Doctor needs immediate attention," the chief medic said.

"Of course," Goth said. "Begin treatment at once. Guards, take the Tellurian back to the Doctor's oubliette."

"No!" Jamie spat back. "I'm stayin' wit' him. He needs me."

"There is nothing you can do and you will only get in the way," Goth said. "Guards."

The guards nodded and moved toward the piper. Each of them looped an arm around one of Jamie's and pulled him away from the stretcher. Once that was done, the medics shoved the stretcher into the medical bay, the doors sliding shut behind them.

"Let me go," Jamie said as he tried to squirm out of the guards' grip.

Goth nodded at the guards and they responded by releasing their hold on the piper.

"I am certain that you realize that I am acting under the impression that you will follow the guards back to the oubliette without any more outbursts," he said.

"But the Doctor…."

"You will be informed of the Doctor's condition when there is something to report," Goth interrupted. "Until such time, you will stay in the oubliette and wait to be summoned."

"Ye…. It's yer fault that he's in such a bad way in the first place," Jamie growled. "Ye jes kept givin' him one mission after another. Ne'er lettin' him stop to catch his breath."

"That is the nature of the work in the CIA," Goth replied. "The Doctor knows this."

"Oh aye, so why dinna Sardon do this sort of thing, eh?" Jamie added. "Ye knew that it was wearin' him out and ye kept doin' it anyway. That's why he could nae defend himself properly against that beastie. He was tae tired to see it and tae exhausted to really fight it."

"So, you believe that it was my fault that the Doctor was injured, do you?" Goth said. "Tell me, how much has the Doctor told you about the physiology of a Time Lord?"

"Ye mean, how ye're made up?" Jamie replied. "He told me some. How ye have two hearts and aboot regeneration and a few other things."

"Then perhaps you know that Time Lords have far greater strength and stamina and much faster reflexes than say, Tellurians do," Goth continued. "Given all that, do you honestly believe that the Doctor was injured solely because he was too tired to look after himself? After all, there could be other possibilies. Like that maybe he was…distracted by something?"

Jamie clenched his hands into fists, but remained quiet. It wasn't difficult to see what Goth was implying with his words.

The problem was, deep down, Jamie knew that Goth had a point. If the Doctor hadn't been so concerned with protecting him, he would have been able to avoid being so grievously wounded.

"Ah, I see that other possibilities have occurred to you," Goth said. "You see, the Doctor is a Prydonian, like me…."

"He's _nothing_ like ye," Jamie insisted.

"You may choose to believe that if you wish," Goth said. "However, the fact remains that the Doctor never does things without purpose. A true mark of our chapter within Time Lord society. Perhaps you should think on all of this while you are waiting. Think on it and ask yourself if there could be a greater reason behind all of this."

Goth waved his hand at the guards before walking away. As much as Jamie wanted to force his way into the medical bay, he knew that it would be better to go quietly and let the medics concentrate on saving the Doctor. One of the guards motioned in the direction of the oubliette, and Jamie sighed and walked toward the route indicated. Soon, he arrived at the door, held up his arm for the scanner, and walked in through the parted doors which promptly shut as soon as he was inside.

Restless, the piper paced in a circle for a full minute before catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hands and clothes were smeared with blood. Even his face had a couple faint smudges where the Doctor had touched his cheek. As Jamie stared at himself, Goth's comments continued to repeat in his head.

'_He got hurt to save me from that creature,' _he mused. '_And now, he's on the edge of death 'cause he's tryin' to help Zoe and 'cause he's tryin' to protect me.'_

It was then that Jamie made the connection between Goth's words and the Doctor's actions. This blood. His life. Every part of his being. This was the price that the Doctor was paying for time. To take care of Zoe. Of him. And of all those other people out there, present and future, he felt he needed to tend to.

Jamie slowly sank to his knees on the carpet. He bowed his head and prayed, clasping his hands tightly together as he begged for the Doctor's life and asked that he be relieved of his pain. He continued to pray fervently until he ran out of words to express his deepest fears and hopes.

Only then, did he allow his tears to fall.


	6. The Hearts that are Rent

Author's Note: Next chapter. This is part two of three preview/missing scenes for my upcoming fic _The Ties That Bind_ that I will start posting on September 22nd (Frazer Hines' birthday). There will be one more after this one.

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated. :)

The Hearts that are Rent

The first thing the Doctor did as he opened his eyes was raise a shaky hand to his face. His fingers traced along the contours of his features for almost a full minute before he reached a surprising conclusion.

He hadn't regenerated.

The Doctor let his hand fall back down onto something unreasonably soft and highly synthetic. He knew that he would get more information about his surroundings if he actually tried to open his eyes, but that wasn't an appealing prospect. He was fairly certain that he was back on Gallifrey and was not anywhere near as certain if he was all that interested in where he was on his home planet. As he debated the subject in his weary brain, he started to drift back to unconsciousness. He would have succumbed to sleep if one thought hadn't cut through his mind's chatter.

'_Jamie? Where is Jamie?'_

"Doctor? Are you awake?"

Slowly and cautiously, the Doctor forced his eyelids open. For a second, he had expected to see a familiar smile trying to mask the worry in hazel eyes. However, as his eyes focused, he realized that the voice that had spoken to him did not have any trace of a Scottish brogue. Thus, it wasn't a shock to him when his vision cleared and he saw Jalel, a young Gallifreyan medic, standing nearby instead.

"Unfortunately," the Doctor grumbled. "How long have I been here?"

"Can't you tell?" Jalel said as he approached the bed the Doctor was currently lying in.

"Well I have a good guess," the Doctor replied. "But I'm not sure if that is accurate due to all the drugs you lot have used on me by now, and I'm too tired to figure out if it is or not."

"Fair enough," Jalel said. "You've been unconscious for almost four days. I must say, Doctor, I am rather astounded that your injuries did not trigger a regeneration. As it was, our team was only just able to save your life."

The Doctor acknowledged his comments with a flick of his eyes, but remained silent. How could he explain his reasons for holding back his regeneration to anyone here? Regeneration was not an easy or pain-free process, but it was still considered preferable to death. Thus, it would be difficult to for almost any other Time Lord to understand why he had resisted his body's instincts for self-preservation.

Jalel continued to take readings from the machines monitoring him while occasionally asking him a question to gauge his condition. The Doctor had to admit that the medic was a considerate young man and tried to be cooperative. Still, his mind was too troubled to do more than give monosyllabic replies to his questions. He kept thinking back to the moment when he and Jamie were attacked by that Grasil.

'_Careless. That's what I was,' _he chided himself. '_I had heard the sound of something in the vicinity, but I just brushed it aside without thinking about what could happen. All I wanted was to get the job over with so I could take the TARDIS where I wanted to go for a change. And that carelessness could have gotten Jamie killed.'_

The Doctor frowned. Being reckless was a habit he had picked up after decades of isolation and being mired in Time Lord politics. He still found plenty of evils to fight in the universe and did his best to find purpose in the mechanisms he was forced to become a part of. However, with no one to look after or to look after him, his worst traits had begun to rise to the surface. Faced with years of grinding toil in shadowy dealings that the Time Lords would make him forget anyway, the Doctor often went about these missions with the mindset that he had nothing to lose. Mainly because, for the most part, he didn't.

Ironically enough, it was a loss he had endured that pushed him to persevere. The loss of Jamie and Zoe. The driving need to give them back everything that the Time Lords had taken from them and make sure they had a good place to live out the rest of their existence.

He had only partially succeeded so far with Jamie. The piper has his memories and his sanity and was no longer in danger of being executed for being a Jacobite rebel. However, Jamie was far from being in a good place where he could live freely. The Doctor did not know how long it would be before he could guarantee a peaceful, stable life for Jamie, but until that day, he knew that he was responsible for the piper's safety. It was vital that he not fall back on the habits he acquired while traveling alone, but that was exactly what he had done.

"Doctor? Doctor, is there anything I can get for you?" Jalel said, interrupting his train of thought.

Just as the Doctor was about to answer that all he wanted was to know where Jamie was and to sleep, he spied movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see Goth entering the room.

"Lord Goth," Jalel said as he moved to face him. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"How is the Doctor's condition?" Goth asked.

"Stable," Jalel said. "Which is extraordinary considering the condition he was in when he arrived. He should make a full recovery before too long."

"Sorry to disappoint you," the Doctor said, acerbic.

"That will be all, Jalel," Goth said with a wave of his hand. "You will keep apprised of the Doctor's progress."

"Of course," Jalel said. "If you will excuse me."

Jalel quickly strode out of the room while the Doctor secretly applauded him for being astute enough make sure to spend as little time as possible in Goth's presence. Both he and Goth waited until the medic had left the room for a few seconds before speaking again.

"You know, you really shouldn't have bothered visiting," the Doctor said. "Flowers would have been more than sufficient."

"My being here has nothing to do with social niceties, Doctor."

"It never does."

"Your last mission did not end as satisfactorily as we would have liked," Goth continued, undeterred.

"I fulfilled all the assignment's objectives and then some," the Doctor said. "I can safely say that the Time Lords won't have anything to worry about in regards to Plomas for the next few centuries."

"That's not what I am referring to," Goth said.

"Oh, you mean the fact that I wound up here, is that it?" the Doctor said as sank back against his pillow. "I'm sure Jamie has explained that it had nothing to do with the mission itself, so there's no risk of any of Plomas' scientists figuring out my real reason touring their laboratories."

"Doctor," Goth said, crossing hands over his stomach. "This may come to a surprise to you, but you are far more useful to the CIA alive rather than dead. The High Council still expects to carry out its sentence when the time comes."

"I see now," the Doctor said, his eyes hooded. "You and Sardon had a 'discussion' about how you've handled the operations of the CIA. Pity. I would have liked to be there for that."

"Sardon knows that I do not always agree with his…methodology," Goth said. "Nevertheless, I have decided to defer to his wisdom in this matter. You will stay here until the medics feel that you have recovered sufficiently. Then Sardon will decide how best to allocate your sabbatical."

"I get a sabbatical?" the Doctor said, disbelief coloring his voice.

"A short one, I can assure you," Goth said. "Now, I will leave you to your rest, Doctor."

"Wait a minute," the Doctor said. "What about Jamie? Where is he now?"

"The Tellurian is waiting in your oubliette," Goth said. "He will be informed of your status now that there is something to report."

"But hasn't the medics been telling him how I am during his visits?" the Doctor said, a feeling of dread starting to creep into him.

"The Tellurian was sent to your oubliette not long after you arrived here," Goth answered. "He has remained there ever since."

"You mean you haven't let him out at all?" the Doctor said, his voice rising. "Has anyone even told him what's been going on out here? Has anyone checked on him?"

"He was told that you were stable and comatose once the medics were finished with their surgery," Goth replied, unperturbed. "There hasn't been anything new to report to him until now. As to your second question, our security staff has monitored the oubliette at regular intervals as part of standard procedure. The Tellurian's life signs are within the range of what is normal for them and security has reported nothing life-threatening occurring in the oubliette itself. Really, Doctor, I don't understand why you are so upset. Your assistant is perfectly safe where he is now."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at him. He knew that there was no use in explaining to Goth why he was angry that Jamie had been trapped in his oubliette for nearly four days with no one keeping him updated or even talking to him. Not that he wasn't tempted to try…in a very loud and heated way.

"I want to see him," the Doctor said venomously.

"Yes, Sardon figured that you would," Goth said. "Very well. I shall inform the guards to allow the Tellurian to leave the oubliette to spend time with you here. You will caution him to stay within either the oubliette or your room here, won't you?"

"Of course," the Doctor said. He hated how Goth continued to refer to Jamie the same way others would a pet, but did not have the energy to further vocalize his disgust.

Goth left his room without another word, and the Doctor breathed a sigh of relief. He turned his gaze up toward the ceiling, closed his eyes, and fully intended to just rest them until Jamie arrived.

He hadn't intended to fall asleep. Nor had he intended to stay that way for hours. But when he opened his eyes again, the Doctor could tell that that was exactly what he had done.

The Doctor blinked several times and yawned as he reached up to rub his eyes. He tried to shift his position on the bed, but suddenly realized that something was holding his arm down. He glanced over to find Jamie sitting in a chair at his beside, his upper body resting on the edge of the bed. The piper was fast asleep and was clutching one of the Doctor's arms.

A sad smile appeared on his face. There were dark circles under eyes that had a reddish tint near the corners and lines of exhaustion and tension on the rest of Jamie's features. The Doctor suspected that this was first peaceful slumber the Scot had had in days. He didn't want to wake Jamie, but he also wanted to make it so that both of them could sleep more comfortably. He began by gingerly extracting his arm from the piper's grip. That was enough to make Jamie begin to stir.

"Jamie," the Doctor murmured. He started to stroke the piper's hair which encouraged Jamie to finally open his eyes and lift his head.

"Doctor," Jamie breathed, a smile instantly appearing on his face. The Doctor made sure to give his merriest smile back at him.

"It's good to see you, Jamie," he said.

"It's good to see ye tae, Doctor," Jamie said as he said up and stretched. "Och, I must have dropped oof. I dinna mean to crowd ye like that."

"It's all right," the Doctor assured him. "You were clearly exhausted. Jamie…are you all right?"

"I'm fine," the piper said. "I should be askin' ye that. I know the doctors here said that ye'll be all right eventually, but I…well, ye were in a bad way when we got here, and…."

"Jamie," the Doctor said, placing his hand over Jamie's. "I'm afraid I wasn't in the most coherent of minds while we were making the trip back here. I'm sure I said a lot of things that did not make sense, and I apologize if they scared you."

"Och, I was nae so afraid as all that," Jamie scoffed. "I knew ye would pull through. Ye're tougher than any beastie we've ever run into. I jes…I jes wish I could have known how ye were doin' is all."

"And I'm sorry for that too," the Doctor said. "They had no right to keep you locked up like that. You haven't broken any of the Time Lords' laws, so you should not have been treated like a criminal."

"Ye don' have to apologize to me," Jamie said. "It was nae yer fault. And it's nae like ye could have done anythin' to stop them."

As he spoke those last few words, the piper lowered his head, any trace of his smile gone. The Doctor's hearts ached as he patted Jamie's hand to get his attention.

"Now Jamie, if you talked to the medics, you know that I won't be stuck here for long," the Doctor said as cheerfully as possible. "And Sardon has finally granted us some time off from CIA missions for a while. We'll have a chance to relax and take a nice holiday, just like we were planning to do."

"Aye, a holiday," Jamie said quietly, still not raising his head.

"You never did tell me where you wanted to go," the Doctor continued. "As I mentioned before, Florana is a beautiful world, but the Eye of Orion is very soothing. Either of them would make ideal places for a vacation. Or maybe we can stop by Scotland for a while. There's nothing quite like the sunrise on the moors. Do any of these sound good to you?"

"It does nae matter," Jamie shrugged. "Wherever ye want to go is fine by me."

The Doctor's smile faltered. He had known that Jamie's mood was sure to be a melancholic one after days of worrying and isolation in that blasted oubliette. He had hoped that the piper's mood would lift upon finding out that he was all right and on hearing that they would be free for a while. However, it also occurred to the Doctor that Jamie's sadness was operating on a deeper level than these couple of unfortunate incidences.

'_I should have never brought him into this,' _he thought mournfully. '_Oh Jamie, why couldn't I leave well enough alone?'_

"Jamie, I'm all right now," he said. "I just need some time to rest. We both do, really. Goth was out of line to give us so many assignments in a row like that. But it will be better in the future."

Jamie nodded silently. The Doctor tugged at one of the piper's shirt sleeves. Jamie responded by moving closer so the Doctor could embrace him. He could feel Jamie's breaths hitch, and another twinge went through his hearts.

"I'm sorry, Jamie," he said gently.

Jamie said nothing as he held him even tighter, careful to mind the Doctor's injuries. The Doctor suspected that Jamie knew that he was apologizing for far more than what had happened over these last few days. Not that Jamie would ever think of asking for an apology from him for the life he had now. In that moment, the Doctor wished he had made a different decision when he went back to Scotland to give Jamie back his memories. But he also knew that there was no point in brooding over that now. Even if he wished that he could change things, the Doctor knew that it was impossible. Sending Jamie back to where he was would mean stripping him of everything he had become during their time together and sending him to his death. Not to mention that, Jamie had made the choice to stay with him and would be hurt deeply if he disregarded that choice. No, he simply could not send the piper away, even if it meant denying him a peaceful life.

For now, all the Doctor could do was keep Jamie close to him and hope that their shared strength would be enough to hold their hearts intact.


	7. The Turn of Fate

Author's Note: Next chapter. This is the final one of three one-shots to preview my upcoming _The Ties That Bind_ fic which I will start posting on September 22nd (Frazer's birthday). It also takes place during 6B, but with a twist...

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated.

The Turn of Fate

Donald McCrimmon frowned, his brow creased with worry, as he stared at the wet, black landscape.

It had been two weeks since his beloved wife had first fallen ill with a fever that wasted her away to almost nothing and less than two days since her soul had finally shed its mortal bonds. Donald was still mourning her with every breath he drew. However he knew he could not allow the grief to overtake him. He still had his sons to take care of. Sturdy, honest, able lads, Donald was proud to have them as his children, and each of them had claimed their own place in his heart. They gave him hope in the midst of the turmoil that always seemed to loom over Scotland's future. They continued to give him purpose in the face of his own loss.

And it was this fierce, yet warm regard that he had for his sons that had driven him out onto the moors and into this terrible weather. In particular, it was because of the youngest of his bairns, four-year-old, Jamie.

Donald drew his jacket closer to him and shielded his eyes from the rain with the edge of his hand. Jamie had been an unexpected addition to his family. Both he and his wife had thought that her child-bearing days were a mere six years after they had begun. Then, almost five years after she had had her previous son, she found herself with child yet again. Donald was pleased to welcome a new member to the McCrimmon family, but his wife had firmly believed that it was not meant to be and fretted just about every moment of her pregnancy.

Fortunately, her misgivings turned out to be without merit as she delivered a healthy baby boy with no complications. Still, his wife continued to believe that her last child had an ominous mark on his fate and could never truly warm to him the way she had her other sons. She did not go out of her way to be unkind to him and made sure to fulfill her motherly duties, but she also maintained a distance between herself and Jamie that persisted all the way up to the last moments of her life.

Donald, however, had been convinced that Jamie had been a gift to cheer his heart which had become weary from the strife Scotland endured and from the worries he had over the future. Jamie had an adventurous spirit and a playful smile which endeared him to his brothers, and a fine, gentle heart which his father treasured. When Donald looked at his son's face, he could see the music in Jamie's eyes and could sense the intelligence that shone in every glint and glimmer. He was certain that Jamie would be an excellent piper and had already begun preparations for his youngest son to be educated with a variety of piping masters once he was old enough.

Sheets of rain rolled over Donald's back as he let out a long sigh. His wife's indifference to Jamie was a point of contention in their relationship, but she had been a good mother and he could not let go of his love for her. Thus, he did his best to ensure that her prejudice did not drive an insurmountable wedge between them. As long as she remained civil to him, Donald decided that he would step in and do his best to fill the space that was empty of her affections. Granted, he frequently found that he was sorely tempted to spoil Jamie, but managed to be fortunate enough to be given a son whose good nature could easily overcome any excessive indulgence.

A flash of light was quickly punctuated by a loud crack of thunder. Donald shivered as the rain soaked him, the cold seeping into his bones. Night was falling and with this storm raging, it would not be long before it would be difficult to navigate the moors and virtually impossible to search for anything…or anyone.

'_Jamie,' _he despaired silently. '_Come back to me, son. Where are ye?'_

Donald ground his jaw and continued onward. Jamie had been afflicted with the same fever that had taken his wife, and for a brief time, Donald wondered how he would be able to withstand the loss of the love of his life and his dear bairn. Thankfully, his son's case turned out to be not as severe, and he was spared another devastating loss.

However, despite the relief he and his other sons felt over Jamie's recovery, there were those among his wife's family who were bitter that their kin had suffered and eventually died while the child she never wanted still lived. Their attitudes swiftly became apparent with every visit they made to tend to her and her household. They avoided Jamie while he was recovering from his illness and adopted a cold demeanor toward him once he was no longer bed ridden.

Looking back on it now, Donald wished that he had done more to put a halt to this unjust treatment, but his grief over becoming a widower had blinded him to most of what was going on around him. All he could focus on was trying to find the strength to continue on and take over more of the responsibilities to his house and family. His bairns had been a comfort to him even though they also were shedding their own tears over the loss of their mother. Still, there was little they could do either to lessen the harsh words or the callous behavior that these relatives engaged in around Jamie.

The situation had become unbearable earlier that day. The funeral had happened that morning and a somber atmosphere had come upon the entire family as kin of Donald's joined his wife's in mourning the departed. Many of these relatives later accompanied Donald and his children to their house to spend time consoling and sharing remembrances.

It was his wife's twin cousins, spiteful and disingenuous to the core, who decided to carry out their own brand of revenge against Jamie. They had taken him out onto the moors under the pretense of showing him their favorite place to hunt in the nearby glen. But it had been a ruse to lead him far away from the paths he knew and then leave him there, lost and alone. Caught up in familial obligations and sympathies, Donald did not find out about Jamie until hours after the twins had returned.

The wind picked up, causing the rain to swirl about. Stray strands of salt-and-pepper hair clung to the piper's temples, his beard dripping broken droplets. Thinking about what the twins had done still made Donald's blood boil. There had been many shouted oaths and a furious demand for several members of his wife's extended family to leave his home and never return. A part of him regretted his hot temper and his severing ties with members of his wife's family. Nevertheless, Donald remained firm in his conviction that what they had done to Jamie was unforgivable and could not foresee a time when their apologies would erase the anger he felt.

The piper stopped and took shelter near a tree at the edge of a forest. He had gone to where the twins described and had not found Jamie there. Donald had rallied a few of the men of his clan to help him search, but none of them had had any success thus far. By now, the others had given up and even if any of them where here, they would encourage him to resume his search in the morning.

But if there were any traits which truly defined Donald McCrimmon, they would have to include stubbornness and a stalwart dedication to the people he cared about. Even if his search turned out to be futile or had a heart-breaking conclusion, he would continue to scour the land for his son until he found him. He surveyed the area around him and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Jamie!" he bellowed. "Jamie, can ye hear me?"

Donald listened for a couple moments before slumping against the tree trunk. He had hoped that his son would stay close to where his cousins had left him or choose to stay under a tree near the edge of the woods to avoid the worst of the storm. However, the piper had found no sign of Jamie and grew increasingly worried that his son could face exposure or a resurgence of his illness, either of which could easily kill him. Donald struck the bark with the heel of his fist and took a deep breath before squaring his shoulders and moving on.

After walking for another mile, Donald caught a glimpse of light in the distance. He squinted as he approached and realized that the glow was coming from the windows in old McIntosh's croft.

'_But he left that croft behind o'er a year ago,' _he mused. '_So who's creepin' aboot there now?'_

Donald frowned and placed a hand on the handle of his dirk. He knew that it was possible that McIntosh or one of his family had gone to the old house for some reason or another, but he preferred to remain vigilant until he knew all was well. He crept up to the croft and peered in through the window.

He could see a man in long, black cloak, sitting in front of the fireplace, which was lit with a welcoming blaze. Donald couldn't make out any of the man's features, other than his dark hair which had begun to turn silver and short, but powerful stature. The man appeared to be rocking back and forth slightly in his chair and was holding something in his arms.

Curious and still a bit wary, Donald moved over to the door and slowly opened it, the creak of the hinges barely registering against another roll of thunder. He stepped inside and heard singing. The piper cocked his head to the side and listened to the man by the fire sing in a low, rough voice. He did not recognize the language being used, but his musical instincts told him that the song was very old and was meant to guide children to sleep. He took another step forward which caused the stranger to stop and turn his head toward him.

"Who are ye?" Donald demanded. "Ye're nae one of old man McIntosh's kin. I know that for sure. What are ye doin' here?"

The man's face remained mostly in shadow, but Donald took in the glitter of vibrant blue eyes which stared into his.

"You must be Donald McCrimmon," the man said in a soft, light tone. "I was hoping that I would meet with you soon."

"Ye know my name?" Donald said quizzically. "Have we met before?"

"No, no," the stranger laughed. "But let's just say that we have a mutual acquaintance. Now then, I'm sure you're drenched from this awful rain. Come closer to the fire where it's warmer."

Donald frowned again. He couldn't understand it, but something about this man told him that this stranger could be trusted. He moved over toward the hearth, grateful for its warmth and turned to face the strange wee chap in the chair. Once he got a good look at him, Donald's jaw dropped open in surprise.

There, curled up in a blanket within the folds of the man's cloak was Jamie. The boy had fallen asleep in stranger's lap and was resting his head against the man's chest, one small hand clutching at his blue shirt. The man noted the path of Donald's gaze and nodded.

"I found him near the edge of the forest," he said. "Don't worry. He's all right. He was cold and rather upset when I discovered him, but as you can see, he's better now. You should know that he was suffering from a slight fever."

"It's come back," Donald said, dread coursing through him. "The sickness…."

"Now, don't worry," the man repeated. "I've given him something that should take care of that. But I think it's time that you took over."

The man slowly and carefully rose to his feet, making sure not to jostle Jamie too much. Sensing his intent, Donald held out his arms and took his son from the stranger's cradling embrace. The piper's eyes grew wet as he felt Jamie stir and resettle against him without waking up.

"I thank ye," Donald said, his voice unsteady. "I don' know what I'd done if I had nae found him. But…who are ye? How did ye know….?"

"I must go," the man said, pulling his cloak closer to him. "Make sure he gets plenty of rest over the next couple of days. And please, stay with him as much as you can. He needs you right now."

Donald nodded solemnly while shifting his hold on Jamie so his child would be more secure. The stranger stepped closer to him and reached over to stroke the boy's hair.

"Goodbye, Jamie," he murmured.

The man rested his hand on the crown of the child's head, a look of care and longing in his deep blue eyes. Then he turned and walked out into the stormy night. Donald started to follow him and blinked in surprise when the stranger seemed to disappear without a trace. Less than a minute later, he heard a strange, wheezing roar which quickly faded leaving only a slowly quieting rainfall.

Donald stared at the moors outside. He continued to think about the man and the strange, fey presence he seemed to generate. He still could not fathom who the stranger was or how he could have known him and his son, and while he continued to be grateful to have his precious bairn back, another thought was germinating in his mind.

That this stranger, whoever he was, was not of this realm. And that, for some reason, this man was as fond of Jamie as he was.

"Papa?"

Donald looked down to see Jamie watching him with drowsy eyes. The piper grinned and turned back toward the fireplace.

"Aye, Jamie, 'tis me," he said. "Rest now, and we shall go home when this rain ends."

Jamie nodded and rubbed his face with the sides of his fingers. Donald sat down in the chair that the stranger had previously occupied and leaned back. The boy squirmed his way up so he could rest his head against Donald's shoulder before becoming still again. The piper patted his back while his expression grew more serious.

"And when we get back, we'll talk aboot yer runnin' oof to the moors wit' those devils," Donald scolded. "I know I told ye to stay wit' yer brothers while our family was visiting us."

"But Papa, I thought…."

"What? What made ye think ye could disobey me? What were ye thinkin', James?"

The child flinched at the use of his proper name and swallowed hard.

"I thought ye wanted me to leave ye alone," Jamie whispered. "That's what they said. That ye were mad 'cause Mama is gone."

Donald closed his eyes and let out a curse before he could stop himself.

"Well they lied to ye," the piper said, brusquely. "Ye need to learn when people are nae bein' honest wit' ye. And ye know better than to let people tell ye what do to after I told ye to mind my words."

"I'm sorry," Jamie said, his voice quavering.

The piper let out another sigh and hugged his son closer to him.

"'Tis all right," he said. "As long as ye've learned to listen to me next time. Now, go to sleep. Ye need to rest to get better."

"Papa…I'm sorry," Jamie repeated, tears wobbling out of his eyes.

"What aboot?"

"…aboot Mama. I wish she'd come back."

Donald squeezed his eyes shut and took a shuddering breath.

"I wish she would tae, Jamie," he said. "All of us will miss her. But…but that jes means we'll have to hold onto each other a lil' tighter is all."

A pair of small arms circled Donald's chest and he embraced his bairn with all his might, reluctant to let Jamie go.

Determined to make sure that Jamie would never be lost again.


	8. Duet: Rush to Fall

Author's Note: Next chapter. This was a little one-shot I wrote in response to **aragonite**'s request that someone write a fic about the Doctor and Jamie going ice skating. Time-line wise, this takes place early on in 6B.

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated. :)

Duet—Rush to Fall

Snow crunched under the Doctor's feet as he strolled toward the still lake at the edge of the grounds near the resort complex, the fur on his voluminous coat bending in the breeze. The waters had frozen over almost three weeks ago. Now, the ice was thick enough to accommodate people walking, fishing and even riding on solar powered vehicles along its slick surface.

He and Jamie had arrived on the vacation planet of Tularias a couple of hours ago and were greeted by the sight of a vast white expanse of winter weather. The Doctor had spent a few minutes visiting an old friend of his who was one of the caretakers of the resort before asking if they could join the other vacationers outside. The caretaker had suggested ice skating to which the Doctor wholeheartedly agreed to despite the questioning look on Jamie's face.

A mist rose off the ice and rolled over toward the forest nearby. The Doctor took a deep breath, the chilled air bracing in his lungs, before swiveling his head.

"Come on, Jamie!" he shouted. "We haven't got all day."

"Och give me a wee bit, will ye? I can hardly walk in these fiendish contraptions."

The Doctor turned to face him and chuckled at the sight of Jamie trying to negotiate traipsing through the snow in ice skates. Fortunately, the piper had mastered the art of remaining upright while standing after a few minutes of instruction and support from the Doctor. However, walking was an entirely different matter.

"Well done, Jamie," the Doctor beamed. "I do believe that this is the farthest I've seen you walk without my help."

Jamie gave him another dark look, but said nothing as he approached the lake's edge. The Highlander stared at the ice in front of him, the heat from his body creating a shadow of warmth all around him despite his shivering. The Doctor imagined that the Scot was grateful that he had recently taken to wearing cotton trews under his kilt.

"Why are we doin' this, Doctor?" he finally huffed, his breath billowing around his mouth.

"You said that you wanted to do something fun before dinner," the Doctor replied. "And the views from the lakes on Tularias are simply lovely. Just look at that vista."

"'Tis nice enough all right," Jamie shrugged. "But why do we have to go out there wit' these blades on our feet?"

"Skates," the Doctor corrected. "And I'm certain that you will enjoy ice skating once you get the hang of it. That is, unless you're afraid that you won't be able to learn."

Jamie narrowed his eyes at him. The Doctor had anticipated the effect his comment would have on the proud, stubborn Highlander and was not surprised when Jamie immediately marched out onto the ice.

Nor was he surprised when Jamie promptly felt onto his behind.

His skates already on, the Doctor walked onto the ice and gracefully glided toward him, pointedly ignoring the scowl that had returned to the piper's face.

"Now, don't be discouraged, Jamie," he said. "That was an admirable first attempt. I'm sure you'll improve in no time."

The expression on Jamie's face told of his doubts about that, but he kept those thoughts to himself while the Doctor helped him back to his feet.

Thus began a slow, methodical process to teach Jamie how to stand and move along the ice while maintaining a steady posture. There were plenty of spills during these lessons which frequently involved Jamie using the Doctor as a landing pad. The little Time Lord eventually began to suspect that this was not entirely accidental, but accepted his role with relatively good humor. Most of the time.

Soon, Jamie was able to skate reasonably well when he was moving in long, swift strides while still struggling to keep his balance when moving at a slower pace. The Doctor figured that the piper was relying somewhat on momentum to keep himself from falling and started to consider a variety of methods to help the Scot learn to other ways to stop himself from falling.

"My word, you are a natural at this," the Doctor chuckled. Jamie grinned back at him as he zipped by.

"'Tis nae so bad," he called out. "'Tis easy once ye get used to these blades."

"Easy is it?" the Doctor smirked. "Does this mean that you would be up for a challenge then? Say, a race to see who can reach that clump of trees on the opposite side of the lake?"

"Ye're on," Jamie smirked back at him.

The Doctor chuckled again. Sadly, the piper's acceptance of this challenge did not have quite the impact that Jamie might have intended due to the Scot falling down again when he tried to stop himself from swooshing straight into a nearby snow bank. The Doctor waited patiently for Jamie to haul himself back to his feet and join him at their start point.

Once he was there, the two of them crouched down slightly as they prepared to dash.

"Ready?"

"Jes give the word."

The Doctor raised a hand for a few seconds before dropping his arm and taking off. Jamie was right behind him and was quickly gaining ground.

Suddenly there was a loud crack followed by a scream. The Doctor and Jamie nearly collided into each other as they whirled around to see where the sound had come from. They saw a man standing in front of a large hole in the ice. He was waving his arms frantically while a pair of arms splashed in the water next to him.

"Someone help!" he yelled. "My little girl fell in. I, I can't swim."

The Doctor turned and headed over toward him, but Jamie used his newly acquired skill at long strides to overtake him. Jamie ended up reaching the crack in the ice before him and flopping down onto his stomach to reach for the girl.

"Grab my hand, lassie," Jamie yelled at her. The girl cried and gasped as she stretched her fingers toward him. She managed to grab onto him and with the man's help, Jamie was able to hoist her out of the water.

Unfortunately, the girl had panicked and kicked at Jamie as she was being lifted out which shoved the piper into the same hole. The Doctor's hearts froze when Jamie did not resurface.

"He got pulled under the ice," the man shouted as the Doctor arrived. The Doctor knelt down and scanned the area around him, desperate to find any sign of the Highlander.

"Jamie!" he bellowed. "Where are you? Jamie!"

Just then his eyes caught sight of fingers clawing at the ice near his knees. He pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and did some hasty calculations in his head. The Doctor was confident of his skills.

But that did not make him any less terrified at the sight of Jamie's hands becoming limp and motionless.

The Doctor thrust the tip of his screwdriver against what he figured was the safest point in the ice and mashed the necessary buttons to adjust the settings. Thin fissures appeared in the ice, spreading like a web from the nexus. After a few seconds more, the Doctor shoved it back into his pocket and pounded his fist against the ice. The surface broke into an almost perfect circle in front of him. Jamie's hand floated up, and the Doctor snatched it into both of his. The man moved over to help him pull the piper's inert body from the water.

"He isn't moving," the man said as they backed away from the weakened spots in the ice. "Is he….?"

The Doctor ignored him as he gingerly lowered Jamie down onto his back. He leaned down, placing his hand against the Scot's chest. Once he realized that Jamie wasn't breathing, he opened the piper's mouth and tilted his head to the side to let out any water that had been trapped inside. Then he readjusted Jamie's head, pinched his nose shut, and bent down to breathe into his mouth.

"Get help," the Doctor ordered between breaths. "Now!"

The man nodded and scooped up his daughter before rushing away. The Doctor turned his focus back to the piper's still form.

"Jamie, Jamie, please," he said as he continued his ministrations. "You can't give up now. You have to breathe. Breathe for me, Jamie."

The Doctor was about to try resuscitating him again when Jamie suddenly coughed and spat water straight into his face. Too relieved to care, the Doctor let out a strangled sob of happiness while he turned the piper to his side to make it easier for him to expel the rest of the water from his lungs.

"Oh thank goodness," the Doctor sighed as he wiped the water away. "Jamie, are you all right?"

"Aye Doctor," Jamie gasped as he slowly sat up. "But I cannae feel my hands and face. Can we nae go back inside now?"

"Of course, of course," the Doctor said. "Oh dear, Jamie, you're so cold. Here."

The Doctor slipped off his heavy fur coat and wrapped Jamie up in it. Then he rose to his feet and helped Jamie get up as well. He put his arm around the piper's waist to steady him before taking off toward the shore.

"I think several hot drinks and some rest in front of the fireplace are in order," the Doctor said. "And then we will be having a long discussion about just how rash your actions were. That was an appallingly dangerous thing you did, you know. Do you have any idea how much of a fright you gave me?"

"Sorry," Jamie said through chattering teeth. "But I could nae jes stand there and do nothin'"

"No, no I suppose you couldn't," the Doctor said thoughtfully.

"Right," Jamie said. "I tried to land nae so close to the edge, but I still ended up slipping anyway. I don' understand how ye can jes stop moving jes like that."

"Well that comes with practice, Jamie," the Doctor chuckled. "But I think we can put off any further lessons until you thaw out."

Jamie smiled and nodded gratefully while the Doctor laughed again and gave him a gentle squeeze as they skated back toward the lounge.


	9. To The End

Author's Note: Next chapter. This is a really short missing scene from _The Space Pirates_ that I was inspired to write after **rose-of-pollux** mentioned how much she loved certain photo sets on my blog. :) It takes place toward the end of Episode Two in that storyline.

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated. :)

To the End

He had known that it was a long shot, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Zoe at the time.

The Doctor shifted to sit up on his knees so he could stare forlornly at the tangle of wires and circuits in the wall next to him. She had been right, of course, that he might make a mistake in calibrating the magnetic field of this section and send them flying away from the rest of the station. However, it had also been a calculated risk. If he had succeeded, it would have been a simple matter to repeat the process with each section until they had reassembled it so they could get back to the TARDIS. Granted, they would have had to find a way to move from one section to the other, but the Doctor had been confident that he could manipulate the mechanisms that controlled the doors. Lock-picking was a skill that he had mastered out of necessity.

Now, there was no chance of escape. Their portion of the station was too far away from the rest of the pieces, making a second attempt futile. They were trapped with no possible means of reaching the TARDIS.

And the oxygen levels in this section were continuing to diminish.

The Doctor heard Jamie and Zoe gasping for air behind him. He knew enough about human physiology to be able to predict what would happen next. Soon, his companions would grow disoriented and drowsy. Eventually, they would fall unconscious and quietly slip away. The Doctor was aware that he would last longer than them, although this gave him no comfort since it meant that he would have to watch them suffocate.

He would have plenty of time to grieve before he finally succumbed along with them.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor hung his head at the sound of Zoe's voice behind him. What he could he say to her? She had wanted to see the universe and to learn to be more than an automaton who lived her life for data and equations. He had taken her away from everything she had known only to take her here to die.

He heard the sound of heavy footfalls moving closer to him and recognized them as Jamie's. Jamie, one of the bravest and most loyal people he had ever met and who was the first human he could consider his best friend. The Doctor had taken him from Scotland to protect him and to give him a new life amongst the entirety of time and space. Jamie had wanted to leave almost as soon as they had arrived, but the Doctor had refused to listen, his insatiable curiosity compelling him to stay. Now that curiosity would put a premature end to Jamie's life, a result the Doctor would curse himself for until the very last second.

"Doctor," Zoe repeated.

"I'm sorry, Zoe," the Doctor said in a low, mournful voice. "I'm afraid there's nothing else I can do."

"Och, don' give up Doctor," Jamie said with a nervous laugh. "Ye're tae clever for that. Ye'll think of something."

"Not this time, Jamie," the Doctor said, his eyes still fixed on the wires dangling from the exposed panel.

"Ye…ye mean there's no way out?" the piper asked. "We're trapped here."

The Doctor nodded, his entire body sagging down under the weight of that admission. He desperately wanted to tell them how sorry he truly was, but any apologize he could think of seemed trite in the face of the dire circumstances there were currently in. Even if he could find the words to convey his regret, he knew that he did not deserve any measure of forgiveness from them. Not that he expected it anyway.

No one spoke for several long moments. The silence compounded the sorrow the Doctor felt as he waited for the inevitable anger from his companions for his failure to get them out of this situation. He scooted over toward the edge of the platform up to the door in an attempt to isolate himself from them. The Doctor covered his face with his hands, his eyes burning with bitterness over what he had allowed to happen.

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand grasp his shoulder, causing him to gasp in surprise. He lifted his head and turned to see Jamie and Zoe standing behind him, the piper's hand squeezing his shoulder again.

"Come on, Doctor," the Scot said gently through heavy breaths. "We cannae wait any longer to use those tanks again."

"Yes," Zoe nodded. "You need to breathe too, Doctor. And we will be better able to conserve our oxygen if the three of us stay close together when we open the valve."

"Zoe…Jamie…," he muttered. "I…I'm so sorry…I…I should have…."

"Och, there's no point in any of that," Jamie interrupted. "Ye did the best ye could."

"But it's my fault that you ended up here in the first place!" the Doctor exclaimed. "If I had listened to you…if I had been more careful…."

"There was no way you could have known that this would happen, Doctor," Zoe insisted. "All the evidence indicated that it would have been better to avoid being imprisoned by those guards if at all possible. Not to mention the likelihood that it would have been disastrous if we had been caught up in whatever conflict befell the rest of the crew. You can only act upon the information available to you."

"Come on," Jamie repeated, holding out a hand to him. "Ye should nae be alone. Not now. Stay wit' us."

The Doctor stared at them in disbelief. There was no trace of anger or recriminations in their eyes or voices. Instead there was affection colored with concern. His hearts ached at the realization and he pondered just how fortunate he was to have known such dear friends even for the short time the three of them were together.

He clasped the piper's hand and let Jamie help him scoot over closer to him while Zoe moved to plop down on the floor next to him. Jamie sat down behind him and fell back against the railing of the platform while putting his arm around the Doctor's shoulders. The Time Lord lifted the tank and twisted the handle to let out a little of the air, all three of them taking in as many deep breaths as they could before he shut it again. Once he had sat it back down onto the floor, the Doctor slumped down against Jamie who responded by guiding him down into a reclining position, the Time Lord's head resting on the piper's chest.

"Jamie," he murmured.

"'Tis all right, Doctor," Jamie responded in similarly soft voice. "I know. And 'tis the same for me tae."

The Doctor reached up to pat Jamie's hand before closing his eyes to rest while he waited for the next suitable interval to release some more oxygen into the section. He couldn't see a way out of this situation, but he was grateful for Zoe and Jamie's company in these final moments.

They would be together to the end. And the Doctor was certain that he could think of no better epitaph for his existence than that.


End file.
